Throughout the funereal silence . Only some bees move from one to another rosebud without breaking my bearings for the troubles of the living . What could I do ? Where to find the grave of my son in this kingdom of speechless , where swarming own concrete grate and indiscriminately scattered artificial flowers for days or perhaps months paths between marble tombstones that cover their cool . Began to torment an ominous thought . Maybe ... maybe ... no room for us to pronounce mouth . However the content is not on , but my girlfriend told him my concerns :- Line thirteen , grave number 176 . I believe that there will be found .Barely distinguish tables in the corners of each row . I was dizzy and eyes were worn out with worry whether to line a bunch of artificial flowers to the grave of my son or not . I had dreams to set up thousands of miles away and brought them up here ..
- Do not hurry . Turn once again ask the grave-digger . Maybe they changed the order in the register , - she said .
With kalamendura foot went back to the gate . Ghoul shrugged , not knowing what to say to us .
- Sir , it happens to become a racket here ?
He at first did not understand , so he asked me :
- Tell me more clearly , sir . What do you mean racket .
- See, for example , to fetch the grave when relatives have years that are not interested ?
He was found unprepared , but bounced replied .